We Probably Watch Too Many Commercials

We were talking about the second notice Paul received from our life insurance company. He pays bills early, so a second notice? The first probably disappeared because we had company.

Maybe you never “put things away” before company comes. Most of what we make disappear is envelopes too boring to open, but too official-looking to toss. I open “real person” mail immediately, but computer-generated, eh, not so much.

Even if you deny the need to “stack” things out of sight before opening the door for company, I know I’m not the only one who does it. Without giving names, a few friends are “guilty” of doing that, too.

One April in our little prayer group, one person asked for prayer to find tax preparations she’d worked on the week before. Okay, it was me. But almost instantly, two others said they had the same request. Each of us had “cleaned” for company. Praise the Lord, we found them in time for taxes.

So Paul had this insurance policy reminder, and I ask, “That’s term, right?” Term has its merits, but…

My husband doesn’t use obscene language, but some of the numbers he says come close if you’re not particularly eager to hear them. So he says, “I think so, which means, with you turning ## in a few weeks, it’s probably going to shoot through the roof,” and his right arm shot up so I’d fully comprehend what he was saying.

I’d been getting lots of fan mail. Every insurance company with supplemental prescription service wants to be on a first name basis with you if you’re within a mile of Medicare. Or in this case, with me. They concentrate more on birthdays than I do. I don’t think it’s so they can spend money on me. They want me to spend money on them for my birthday. How fair is that?

So I said, remembering a lunch time commercial we see, “I suppose it’s time for me to think about calling (and I name a company) and getting their policy.”

For those of you too young or too busy to notice such commercials, it’s where a group of people are talking at what looks too much like a funeral luncheon. Leaving the living room chatter, the camera follows ladies to the kitchen where someone says in gentle compassionate tones, “So, how do you think things are for Aunt Whoever, now that Uncle Whoever’s gone?”

Another kind voice says, “I think things are okay for her, he had (“the policy”), you know.”

Of course it wasn’t, otherwise it wouldn’t be on lunchtime television.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s probably wise to have “the policy” to cover funerals and isn’t it good stewardship to have policies to help others after we can’t? 

But mail sorting wasn’t serious business, so I began reciting the commercial. 

Paul interrupted, “Aren’t they the ones guaranteeing to insure you, even if you’re dead?”

But actually, that’s kind of “the rest of the (Christmas) story.” The Christ of Christmas came to insure us followers so that, even when people say we’re dead, we’ll spend eternity with Him. That “policy” is available and worth celebrating!

Marge Warder is a general assignment reporter. E-mail her at news@redoakexpress.com.